


you became the light on the dark side of me

by GingerHoran



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Fate, Happy, M/M, Sad, True Love, loved, unloved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:13:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerHoran/pseuds/GingerHoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall used to lay awake at night, listening to the silence like an orchestra, the wind battering against the trees on the outside of their bedroom window. Everything was slowly becoming smudged, not really falling apart, but more blurring as if the masterpiece wasn't strong enough to withstand it's image against the rain.<br/>-<br/>Niall's fallen out of love but into love at the same time, it's unexplainable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you became the light on the dark side of me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Kiss From A Rose by Seal.  
> Idea came to me at 4am in the middle of the night, pretty random but oh well.  
> Plus focus more on Zayn Malik/Niall Horan and Harry Styles/Niall Horan than the Lirry relationship, just because I didn't want Harry to end up heartbroken. I wanted this piece to be a little happier.

"Yeah? Niall, really? Because that really fucking makes sense!" Another smash of a plate, little pieces shattering and ricocheting around the kitchen and making more tears fall.

The anger was thick in the room, Harry fuming and breathing heavily as he pinched his nose and leaned against the sink, Niall sat at the breakfast bar opposite him with dead eyes and clasped hands dotted with his fallen tears.

Neither of them could pinpoint the time when the relationship started to fall apart, when the arguing started and along with plates, a little bit of Niall's heart was shattered and scattered.

"Just explain it to me? What's going on in that brain of yours," Harry muttered, his voice dropping down to a desperate whisper, his hands no longer clutching the kitchen surface in fury but hanging loosely by his side, almost in defeat.

Again Niall was quiet, knocking his feet about under the table and trying to distract himself from those green eyes that he'd lost the love for, he couldn't explain it. Couldn't explain how he'd fallen out of love, but into love at the same time, he was confused, torn and guilty.

Running his hands through his knotted curls, Harry sighed knowing that it was no use, that the only thing that would echo through this house would be his shouts and Niall's loud silence. " I'm," he began darting his eyes up to meet the sad blues. "I'm gonna head up to bed, yeah?"

Not expecting a reply, he glanced once more at his boyfriend before making his way upstairs, tired limbs dragging and head pounding, maybe a good nights sleep would help him out.

"I've fallen in love," Niall muttered into the broken dish, as he kneeled on the floor picking up the pieces, not really sure what he was trying to piece together, his grandmothers broken china or his messed up relationship.

  
Harry sleeps off his problems. Niall drinks them away. Pouring himself glass after glass of bitter liquor, letting it scald his throat and welcoming the burn with a dirty smirk as if he deserved it, his mind gets cloudy pretty quickly and it helps his forget his problems for a moment.

/

Niall fell into love before he fell out of love, it was a cycle, it was bound to happen and nothing could have stopped it.

Harry was always the perfect one, the one his mother adored and father approved, the one with the steady income and handsome features.

He was perfect, too perfect.

Niall used to lay awake at night, listening to the silence like an orchestra, the wind battering against the trees on the outside of their bedroom window. Everything was slowly becoming smudged, not really falling apart, but more blurring as if the masterpiece wasn't strong enough to withstand it's image against the rain.

Arms tightened around his waist, and soft hairs tickled into the back of his head slowly bringing him down to reality and making him feel a little shiver of guilt run down his spine.

He was guilty of pretending to love one, when had truthfully dove down the cliff into the seas of another. It was eating away into the veins of his heart pulling it apart sinew by sinew, and he needed to run.

/

"I'm, going to see Louis for a coffee." Harry nodded darting his eyes from the coffee steaming in his mug, to the marble floor flecked with little scratches from the night before.

He scrunched his eyelids tightly before replying with a quiet, "yeah."  
Niall's stomach pummelled against his ribcage making him cringe internally, he could see the dusted coal beneath Harry's eyelids and those gleaming emeralds turned murky evergreen.

Trying to hide a sad smile he left their apartment, Harry's apartment, and trudged along the icy streets towards the coffee shop with a heavy heart that was beating faster by the second.

The air is pungent and bitter as he swings open the door, the little bell tingling as he does so, the boy at the counter looks up and smiles, and it's soft and slow and it makes Niall's heart stutter just that little bit. Coffee has that dark bitterness to it, and it wafts through the air like smoke nestling itself into your clothes and hair and fingertips. It used to be three sugars and a teaspoon of cream, but now it's bitter and black.

"Another coffee?," Zayn smirks and it's just the two of them in the shop, no awkwardness in the air just the aromatic coffee scent that's dug itself into Niall's bones and warms him when he feels weak and liable to the words that are true.

He nods with a small smile that almost hurts his jaw and makes his eyes sore as they crinkle, it's been days since he'd laughed or smiled; or anything that didn't involve him to block out the world and bury himself under sleep-warm sheets and sob salt.

Zayn gets right to it, warming up the coffee machine and making two double shot expresso's with no cream or sugar, before setting them down on the table where Niall is sat, and watching his shaky hands wrap around the mug.

Niall doesn't make a face as he drinks it this time, just hums in the back of this throat with contentment.  
And Zayn smiles guiltily bringing the cup towards his lips and winking before he takes a sip.

That's the thing, Zayn doesn't makes Niall feel as though he has to love him or repay him for lavish displays of affection and gifts he never asked for. He just does. He just does love him.

Harry was always different, Niall can never work out if he did love him or if he felt as if he should repay the boy back for running around him in Uni, almost like a puppy with wide eyes begging for attention. Maybe Niall just wanted to love someone whom his parents approved of, who had the right mindset and came from a well to do family.

Did Niall ever actually love Harry?

Thoughts were rushing around Niall's head making him feel dizzy, but a warm hand squeezing his hand pulled him out of his chaotic mind, it was like an electric pulse warming his frozen blood and bringing him back to life.

"Do you want to talk about it?" And Niall laughed contemptuously almost hysterically, because what was there to talk about? He'd fallen out of love with a boy he never loved to begin with, and stumbled into the arms of a warm boy who smelt of coffee and made him feel momentous.

Zayn retracted his hand from the younger boys, sitting back in the chair and rubbing his hands over his face. Niall just stared at his coffee cup with eyes that were wide with an unknown emotion, an emotion suck between the medium of happy and sad, life and death, black and white.

"I never loved him to begin with." He admitted, his finger running around the rim of the ceramic mug, watching the way the dark liquid effervesced steam into the air.

"How do you know?"

He shrugged in response, not being able to explain it, explain how he deceived everyone he knew, and how voices would scream at him with every kiss and touch, haunting him, and making it harder to pretend.

They part with a soft kiss, so soft it's almost nonexistent, but it still makes Niall feel an instant glow of happiness that lasts for several minutes, like a dream after a nightmare, like a child with a gold sticker and a toothy grin as they display it proudly in front of parents.  
It's indescribable, and before he'd met Zayn he had never felt anyone that made him feel so much, made him feel appreciated and like he was floating with wings.

But now those wings are losing their feathers every time Harry looks at him, confusedly, lovingly. Because Niall knows that Harry truly loves him, it's in the anger of his voice the desperation that's slowly dying as he kisses Niall with a passion he can't feel. And that unfeeling is what's tearing him apart, as he sometimes wishes that he'd met Zayn so he would always be oblivious to the true love out there.

/

  
"You didn't meet up with Louis."

Niall doesn't stop his movements at his statement, he just carries on stirring the sugar into his tea, looking down at the rather milky substance with a lie on his tongue.

"No. I didn't," he simply mutters, and Harry sighs, there's no feeling anymore.

'Where?' He wants to scream. 'Why?''What?' 'Who?'

Instead he takes one last glance at his boyfriend, best friend whoever the fuck this stranger is, and walks out grabbing his coat from the rack by the door.

The door slams and Niall bites back tears, but he fails, manoeuvring himself over to the dining table and crying into his tea.

/

Zayn watches the ash fall from his cigarette and into the glass ash tray, the little embers on the end of the suicide stick burning brightly.

There's a knock on the door and Zayn's eyebrow cocks questioningly to himself but he makes his way to the door anyway, sliding the chain and pulling it open.

Niall's outside, his hair dripping from rain and his clothes sipping wet, it's hard to distinguish between tears and Mother Nature but his eyes are rimmed red and look sore, and those blue eyes look slightly dead to the world.

"Make me forget," he says pleadingly.

Zayn does, making love to him slowly before picking up the pace and every thrust making Niall cry and scream and lose his breath, it's hard and fast and perfect.

They each light a cigarette after, Niall keeps on lighting until his eyes burn from the smoke and his lungs feel like giving up, and Zayn is subconsciously gripping his wrist in sleep as if he knows that Niall is trying to kill himself inefficiently.

They curl into each other on the bed and it's probably one of the first nights in a while that Niall doesn't feel tense, because his body is just exhausted from all the lying and unloving.

/

It's not as simple as it seems afterwards, Niall never does see Harry again, and although he never actually loved the boy he does want him to be loved by someone, after all that's the least the boy deserves.

His mother asks him frequently how he is, the first few phone calls he lies and says they're fine and happy and the bills are being paid, but it hurts too much after a while. He just listens to the shouting over the phone, he needs it to help calm his rattling heart, he needs another burst of anger from someone before he falls into the pattern of being loved.

After that he figures that he should be able to love who he wants, not what's expected from him or because he feels guilty for taking too much and giving too little.

No, love should be based on whether your eyes brighten when they're in view, or your heart stops and you lose your breath and you feel it in the crevices of your bones.

That's love.

/

"So, you want me to make a mixture of French and Italian food?" Niall asks, a small smirk adorning his lips as he views Zayn laying sideways on the couch, the remote tucked beneath his chin and his hands regularly stuffing salted nachos into his mouth.

"Yeah babe. Easy enough, right?"

This was a side of Zayn that Niall never thought he would see, his lazy, hair uncombed, slightly sloppy side but it was strangely intimate watching the boy crawl out of bed in Niall's calvin kleins and slip on a large hoodie and sweats and just fall onto the couch. He'd watch annoyingly shitty MTV programmes just to watch Niall's cute little scowl at those spoilt little pageant children or those reality shows where the accents make you want to scream.

It's endearing it really is, and Niall wants it always to be like this, wants to get used to the comforting cologne of their bed or the fact that they both take showers steamy and hot, and that they both talk and listen and it doesn't feel like a one way relationship. They fit like a puzzle, everything just falls into place, and he loves it, he feels loved.

"Like a mixture of French cheeses and Italian spices, a Brie lasagne or something?" He utters with a lick of his fingers, and Niall wants to kiss into his mouth and taste the salt remnants from the crisps, so he does.

Zayn smiles after the kiss, running his fingers through Niall's slightly shower damp hair, before whispering an almost silent.

"I love you."

And Niall chuckles in response, it's hearty and deep and straight from his throat, his accent becoming more intense as he whispers a repeat against Zayn's pink lips.

The supermarket is pretty quiet but it's not really abnormal for 11am on a Monday morning, and he pushes the trolled through the vegetable aisle, inspecting an aubergine in his had thinking about whether it would ever actually get eaten, or just sit in the fridge for weeks like that turnip did.

"Niall?" And he stops short, his hands gripping the trolley handle bars slightly tighter as he turns to see Harry holding the hands of a little boy and carrying a bunch of bananas.

He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion because for one thing he could never imagine Harry with children, yes he was good with his nephew but he never really seemed like the fatherly type more like the cool uncle.

"Hello Harry," he manages to say, putting the aubergine into his trolley and running his fingers through his hair, this couldn't be more awkward.

"Harry? Can we get sweeties please?" The little boy whines he only looks about five with short cinnamon coloured hair and electric blue eyes, stomping his little converse feet on the floor.

"Yes, of course Lou, just a minute." He says, scrutinising Niall in a way that makes him feel self-conscience and naked, he eyes dragging from his shoe clad feet to his hair, which he hasn't dyed in a while because Zayn loves the way the brown brings out his eyes.

"You look," he clears his throat,"you look really good, Niall." He admits with a sheepish grin, and Niall shrugs playing with the zip on his jacket.

He doesn't anything else though, just watches Harry open and close his mouth a few more times before finally speaking, the little boy at his feet becoming more and more impatient.

"I've met someone else, he's called Liam, er he's really nice." And that's when Niall smiles, because that's exactly what he wanted, for Harry to be in a happy relationship like how he is, he says this quietly to Harry watching him grin a little lob sidedly before finally being pulled towards the confectionary aisle by an angry child.

And Niall's happy.

/

Zayn's asleep when Niall gets back to the flat, a little drool by his mouth and his arms in an awkward position as he's curled up onto the couch, the television blaring a music video that Niall has absolutely no interest in.

Deciding to wake him up with the smell of his cooking, he pulls out the recipe book and gets started, examining each step several times before he even attempts them.  
When the lasagnes in the oven, the salad freshly cut with little pieces of Brie and that aubergine abandoned in the fridge like he knew it would, arms encircle his waist and a chins hooked over his shoulder.

"Hi babe, how was the shopping trip?" He yawns with a kiss to his pressure point on his neck.

"I saw Harry," he blurts suddenly and Zayn just hums into his neck sending little shivers down his back and causing him to cut a carrot slightly crooked, making him laugh lightly.

"He's got a boyfriend called Liam, and a kid, I think he was called Lou or something. He was really cute."

And then that's it, Niall conscience is clear and he no longer feels that little pit of despair whenever he thinks about Harry, he's no longer a stranger anymore, more of an old acquaintance that he has let go off, he feels light and airy.

They eat in comfortably silence, little laughs and hums of delight sometimes breaching the silence, and it's comfortable and heartwarming.

They kiss on the couch Zayn leaning up into Niall as the younger boy sits on his lap, hands soft and roaming as the menu loop for avengers plays in the background, both boys too distracted to start the movie.

On the other side of town, Harry's putting Louis into bed when he heard the front door slam and the little boy jump from his bed with a cry of 'Daddy!'. It makes Harry smile softly, making his way downstairs to see his boyfriend and the little boy he now sees as his son embracing by the front door.

Liam looks at him with soft brown eyes like chocolate milk, holding his son close to his chest. He doesn't know what went wrong with Niall, he doesn't know why everything started to fall apart but he does know that when he saw a Niall today that he looked good, he look healthy and he looked like the loveable rogue like he was in younger teen years.

So Harry knows he's being loved by another person out there.

  
He knows they weren't meant to be, and that it was written in the stars for them the meet other people.

And he's relieved.

 

 

 


End file.
